


Three Continents Watson

by inkinmyheartandonthepage



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, Flirting, Idiots in Love, Jealous Sherlock, John "Three Continents" Watson, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:41:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkinmyheartandonthepage/pseuds/inkinmyheartandonthepage
Summary: In which Sherlock is in love with John and finds it increasingly frustrating that everyone adores John.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> So I saw this prompt ( found here: http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/22636.html?thread=133123948#t133123948 ) and this little one shot popped into my head. 
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes and happy reading :)

**Three Continents Watson**

Women liked John Watson.

 

Sherlock had yet to pinpoint exactly what it was that drew women in. He was positive that it was a mixture of things that led ladies (from the elderly to the young toddlers) to smile, bat their eyes and do as he asks. Despite Sherlock saying that looks didn’t matter it hadn’t escape his notice that John was handsome with his dusty blonde hair, boyish smile that lit up his eyes and made him look younger. With his chosen profession John also had a comforting and trusting air about him that was only amplified with the style of jumpers he chose to wear.

 

And it wasn’t only Sherlock to have noticed.

 

* * *

 

 

Sally Donovan was the first to comment while at a crime scene. The murderer hadn’t been able to escape the café before a patron had found the deceased body propped up in the bathroom and called the police. Sherlock, who was accompanied by John, had taken in all that the scene had to offer and quickly deduced that the murder was still in their presence.

 

Naturally the killer had tried to run, pushing through the crowd of witness and knocking over several ladies in his attempt to flee before he was tackled to the ground by Lestrade and handcuffed.

 

While the scene was still being processed and Sherlock was still looking over the body, trying to see any other details that he could later use for an experiment, Sally’s voice intruded through his thoughts.

 

“How does he do it?” she asked out aloud.

 

Sherlock looked up and presumably thought that she was talking to Anderson. But as the consulting detective looked about himself he realized that it was just the two of them. Sherlock casted his gaze around to see what the source of her curiosity was and found the Sargent staring at John across the café who was surrounded by several of the ladies who had been witness in the case.

 

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at the women who surrounded his blogger, smiling eagerly and laughing flirtatiously at whatever he was saying. He sniffed and darted his gaze back down to the body but his mind was not entirely focused now that he was aware of John’s “fan club”.

 

“I assume,” Sherlock drawled. “That is has something to do with his nickname.”

 

“John has a nickname?” Sally frowned, cocking her head to one side but never lifting her eyes off the Ex-Army doctor.

 

“Three Continents Watson I believe is the name that was bestowed to him if I interpreted his sisters drunken slurring correctly,” Sherlock said.

 

The three had been out to dinner when the night had turned for the worse, Harriet drinking herself into a tipsy state and regaling Sherlock with stories from John’s early army days. Sherlock had learnt a lot that night (he categorized at least five shades of red that covered John’s neck throughout the evening).

 

“Looks like they’ll all be faking injuries in a minute,” Sally snorted and Sherlock looked up to see several women glaring at the one that John was tending too. The injured had been one of the unlucky (or lucky depending on whose opinion you asked) who had been knocked over in the killers attempt to flee and John had immediately gone into doctor mode.

 

Sherlock sniffed again and glared at the body in front of him. Annoyed at the women flocking over John like hungry seagulls he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets, hands curling into fists.

 

“John,” Sherlock snapped, making everyone in the café glance his way. “Let’s go. I’m bored.”

 

John finished up with the small cut the women had received on her arm and gave her a brief flash of teeth before he was strolling to Sherlock who waited impatiently by the door for him.

 

“Hungry?” John asked.

 

Sherlock shrugged. “Perhaps.” He held open the door and allowed John to pass who started mumbling about finding another café and hoping that his appetite hadn’t been spoilt.

 

Sherlock turned to the group of women who were glaring at him, flashed them a smug smile before strolling out of the crime scene and catching up easily to his blogger.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sally wasn’t kidding when she said that John was good,” Lestrade commented from where he stood beside Sherlock, arms crossed over his chest.

 

Sherlock huffed and glared at the girl who held John’s attention.

 

Blonde hair, blue eyes and dressed in clothes that made her look utterly adorable Sherlock couldn’t help but sneer as she captured John’s full attention and making him smile like he was completely besotted.

 

Sherlock, who had catalogued all of John’s smiles, had never seen the man smile him like that and it made his teeth clench and his shoulder hunch under his thick coat as he watched the two of them. Beside him, Lestrade was chuckling.

 

“We should recruit John if this is going to be the result all the time. He’s far better at dealing this than I am. Afraid I’m out of touch.”

 

“Of course you are,” Sherlock snapped.

 

“Oi! Me and my ex tried to work things out and for a while it was good again,” Lestrade said.

 

“She was having an affair with the PE Teacher,” Sherlock said.

 

Lestrade jaw dropped at the news. “What?”

 

Sherlock looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

 

Lestrade shook his head. “Christ.” He sighed and looked back at where John was still chatting the blonde. “Maybe I need some tips from _Three Continents Watson_.”

 

Sherlock looked at him startled. “How do you know that?”

 

It was Lestrade turn to raise an eyebrow at the consulting detective. “Sally told me. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

 

Sherlock grumbled under his breath. “All I need is for you to start spreading _that_ around. It’s bad enough as it is.”

 

“Spread it around? What are you – oh wait. _No._ Are you…you are!” Lestrade face turned from confused to gleeful in a manner of minuets.

 

Sherlock frowned at the DI. “I am _what_?”

 

“Jealous,” Lestrade said.

 

Sherlock scoffed and turned away from the DI and refused to look at him again.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Lestrade breathed.

 

The blonde giggled.

 

“You – ah – you and Jo-“ Lestrade fumbled but Sherlock quickly stopped with an icy glare.

 

“Bye Doctor Watson!” the blonde waved happily and John smiled and waved back before he started walking over to the two of them.

 

Sherlock schooled his features as fast as he could. He refused to be jealous of a three year old.

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock’s patients for John’s charming nature continued to wane when he, unfortunately, accompanied John to Tesco in order to apologize for making all food in their apartment inedible.

 

The shopping, while boring and tedious, had gone off without a hitch. Sherlock had managed to cajole John into buying several items for a new experiment and had set him off into a strong giggle fit that several pass byers gave them sneering looks.

 

Then they reached the chip and pin machine and Sherlock’s world all but shattered as his feet.

 

“Alright sweetheart,” John said, smiling at the machine much to amusement of the staff and Sherlock. “Let’s just get through today yeah. I know you know how to be nice and your such a tease to me all the time.” He stroked a finger lovingly down the side of the machine.

 

“Honestly John,” Sherlock snorted. “Swipe the card already would you.”

 

John flashed him a grin. “Now, now Sherlock. Today has gone well and this gal is going to treat us nicely. She’s been a bad girl all week for me.”

 

“It’s true,” one of the staff members, giggled nearby. “That machine been temperamental to everyone all week.”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the women who had tried to insert herself into their conversation and smiling knowingly at John as if they were in on a joke that Sherlock wasn’t privy too.

 

“Come on, be a good girl,” John said and gave it another stroke before swiping Sherlock’s card.

 

To Sherlock’s utter disbelief that machine worked, printing out a receipt rapidly.

 

John crowed triumphantly, pumping the air with his fist and smiling brightly at the chip and pin machine. “Atta girl!”

 

Sherlock stalked off in a huff leaving John to carry all the bags himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Wednesday night drinks at a pub near St. Bart’s with Mike Stanford it what broke Sherlock. An easy case had them solving it in a matter of hours and while they had been leaving the labs they had run into Mike who eagerly requested them to join him for a drink and to hear all the details of their cases.

 

“I’ve been keeping up with the blog of course,” Mike said, as he deposited three drinks on the table. “But it can never beat a first hand account.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “Used to love hearing the stories John told at uni.”

 

“Really?” Sherlock said, perking up with considerable interest.

 

John took a swig of his beer while Mike laughed loudly. “Those rugby game after parties were legendary.”

 

Sherlock listen with rapt attention as John and Mike told stories of the old days. He was eager to learn everything about his blogger, things that he hadn’t been able to deduce nor read in the file that Mycroft had provided with him shortly after John had moved in.

 

“Here you go,” the bartender said half an hour later, depositing three fresh new glasses on their table.

 

“We didn’t order these,” John frowned at the bar tender.

 

“I know. It’s on the house,” the bar tender smiled coyly at John. “My numbers on the napkin. You can thank me later.” And with wink he departed to return back to the bar.

 

Sherlock’s heart stuttered to a halt and ice filled his veins as he watched John look at the napkin with raised eyebrows and a brief flicker of interest crossed his face.

 

“Still haven’t changed then,” Mike chuckled, accepting his new, free drink. He grinned at Sherlock, his face already tinged red from the alcohol. “Used to happen every time we went out. I don’t think he paid for one drink during his second year.”

 

Sherlock didn’t laugh. “Fascinating,” he drawled. He stood up and reached up into his jacket pocket to pull on his gloves.

 

“Hang on- where are you going?” John frowned, dropping the napkin onto the table.

 

“Labs,” Sherlock said. “There’s an experiment I need to start.”

 

“Now?” John frowned. “We were just there? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

 

“No,” Sherlock said bluntly. He glared at John. “Besides, why would you care? You have a _date_.” He spun around, his coat flying dramatically out behind him and he stormed out of the bar.

 

The cool London air bit at his exposed skin and hunch his shoulders forward. He hailed a taxi and barked the address to the driver before staring moodily out of the window.

He _hated_ that stupid nickname.

* * *

 

 

“How long are you going to hide here for?”

 

Sherlock flinched but didn’t look up from the microscope he was currently looking through. He heard the lab door open but had assumed, incorrectly, that it had been Molly bringing him coffee. It had been three days since he had last seen John, choosing to return to 221B when he knew that John was out or mostly likely to be asleep and it was _not_ because he was _hiding._

 

“Don’t bother denying it because you are,” John said as Sherlock opened his mouth to do just that.

 

Sherlock huffed but still didn’t lift his gaze from the microscope.

 

“What is going on?” John demanded and Sherlock didn’t have to strain to hear the exasperation in his voice. “Why are you avoiding me?”

 

“I’m not avoiding you,” Sherlock denied.

 

“You’re not – _you can’t even look at me_ ,” John yelled.

 

Swallowing Sherlock lifted his eyes to John. It startled him for a moment to see so much emotion on the man’s face. John had dark circles under his eyes suggesting that he hadn’t been sleeping as much as Sherlock had thought he had been.

 

“What have I done to make you not want to be around me?” John asked, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “I’ve been wracking my brain to figure out what I might have said or done but I can’t think of anything. At first I thought maybe you were angry because I forced you to have a drink with Mike.”

 

“You didn’t force me,” Sherlock bit out. And really how could John think that when he and Mike were two of the very few he could stand to actually be around.

 

“Then help me out Sherlock because I am wracking my brain to find out what I have done!” John’s voice was rising again.

 

“Of course you don’t,” Sherlock snapped. “You see but you don’t _observe_.”

 

John through his hands up in the air, evidently frustrated. “Then _enlighten_ me Sherlock because, unlike you, I can’t read minds.”

 

“No, but you have no trouble living up to your name, do you Three Continents Watson,” Sherlock snapped. To his satisfaction he saw John flinch at the nickname.

 

John opened his mouth several times, his eyes furrowing.

 

Sherlock gave him a twisted smirk. “I have work to do. I’m sure you can find someone else to entertain you while I do so. You seem to have no trouble seducing everyone you come across.”

 

“Considering that you told me the first time we met that you were married to your work,” John said coolly. “I don’t see why that would bother you.”

 

Sherlock fumbled, swallowing as John advanced towards him.

 

“Unless you are of course jealous because I’m no longer trying to seduce _you_ ,” John said, coming to a halt so close to Sherlock that the taller man could almost feel John breathing.

 

“Jealous?” Sherlock tried to scoff but it came out in a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried glaring instead. “You’ve never seduced me.” He accused.

 

“First night we met, at Angelo’s,” John said. “You told me you were married to your work so I stopped.”

 

“That was- that was your seduction?” Sherlock spluttered. “That was terrible!”

 

“You shot me down pretty quickly,” John retorted.

 

“I-“ Sherlock stumbled but didn’t have a response because John was correct. He had shot John down.

 

“Do you want me to seduce, Sherlock?” John suddenly purred.

 

Sherlock’s eyes darted down to were John’s hand was suddenly trialing up his arm. His mouth suddenly went dry and he could practically feel his pupils dilating. He, much to his embarrassment, whimpered when John withdrew his hand and took a step back.

 

“John-“ Sherlock managed to get out.

 

“I don’t want to have to seduce you, Sherlock,” John said.

 

Sherlock heart shattered. “Oh.” He swallowed thickly, his eyes dropping to the floor as he felt them start to burn and the back of his nose doing the same. “I- I understand.”

 

“No, you don’t,” John said.

 

Flinching at both the touch and John’s words, Sherlock chin was gently lifted so that he was once again staring into John’s eyes.

 

“I don’t want to seduce into bed,” John said and Sherlock willed himself not to blush. “I don’t just want just a one night stand. I want it _all_ with you, Sherlock because incase you missed it, I will always choose you.” John shook his head briefly. “So no, I won’t seduce you. If you want me then _you_ have to come and get me. It’s your choice as you know my answer.”

 

Sherlock blinked and then focused. He understood what John was asking of him. He didn’t just want casual sex. John wanted all of Sherlock. And yes, John had proven that he would always choose Sherlock first – wasn’t that evident enough when John ran out of his dates when ever he texted. The question was did Sherlock want John?

 

Yes.

 

“I won’t change,” Sherlock said suddenly, his eyes imploring John to understand. “You have to understand that.”

 

John snorted. “Yeah, I gathered that after a month of living with you. I haven’t left you yet, have I?”

 

This was also true but previous experiences had left Sherlock feeling doubtful. But this was John and everything he had done since Sherlock had met him had defied all expectations that he had about people. John was constantly surprising him and the best way possible.

 

“I want you, too, John,” Sherlock said.

 

“All of it?” John demanded. “Because I –“

 

Sherlock leaned up, planting his lips firmly on John’s, stopping the doubts that John was starting to conjure up.

 

John responded immediately, hands coming up to hold Sherlock in place, one cupping his jaw the other tangling into those curls. He stepped closer immediately when Sherlock’s legs opened automatically and almost sighed when Sherlock’s arm wrapped around his waist, bringing them chest to chest. John relished in the small moan that vibrated in the back of Sherlock throat as he angled his head to deepen the kiss.

 

This time when John pulled away Sherlock managed not to whimper but he did glare at John instead, making his displeasure for the actions decease. His glare deepened when John smirked.

 

“Don’t want to interrupt your experiment. After all, you’ve working on it for three days.”

 

Sherlock bristled, tightening his grip on John’s waist when the blogger tried to step out of his spread legs. “Don’t you dare,” he growled.

 

John laughed but easily fell back against Sherlock chest. John kissed him lightly on the lips, a quick press, before pulling back and smiling the same way he had at the three year old; completely besotted.

 

Warmth spread through Sherlock as he reveled in the fact that he had _finally_ caused that smile.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
